


Where Thou Art Not (Desolation)

by itaru



Series: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 [3]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Restless Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itaru/pseuds/itaru
Summary: That’s when he sees him, vibrant and enchanting, Homare, in the middle of the courtyard, reflected by the moonlight above.
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Yukishiro Azuma
Series: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832218
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020





	Where Thou Art Not (Desolation)

**Author's Note:**

> Bold of you to assume I wouldn't post an angst-adjacent fic this week. This is my third (and final!) entry for A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020. The prompt is Restless Night.  
> This piece is specially dedicated to Teo [@B0DYSHARING](https://twitter.com/b0dysharing), thank you for all the azuhoma talk through DMs! ♡  
> 

Azuma wakes up in a cold sweat. Distant voices, shadows of the past, have once more crept into his dreams, engulfing him in nightmares about loss and regret – the poignant what-ifs at times more terrorising than the traumatic memories themselves.

He sighs, using his elbows to shift his weight until he is sitting on his bed. 

The unpleasant racing of his heart, the numbness of his fingers, and the sweat (or are they tears? Azuma can’t quite tell) rolling down his cold cheek seem out of place in the otherwise tranquil and peaceful room. 

Judging by how dark his bedroom is and how he fails to hear neither footsteps nor voices from outside the room, he assumes it’s way past midnight at this point.

For a second he contemplates going back to sleep, his body heavy and weary in the dead of the night, but the fear of falling back to yet another nightmare is stronger than his need for sleep, and so he quickly decides against it.

“I’ll go grab a glass of water, I guess…” He mutters to himself, his voice raspy. 

He feels ridiculous, talking to himself at his age, but the quiet of the night is too suffocating, and so through the years he has learnt to cope by filling that emptiness with his own voice whenever necessary. And oh, was it necessary.

He slips into his comfortable flip flops, his eyes by now adjusted to the dark. 

The hallway is somber, the brick walls icy and unwelcoming, no matter how many times Azuma has restlessly paced around the dorms at night like a ghost, he still can’t quite get used to the silence. 

It is hard to believe that these are the same dorms that bustle with life during the day, how colourful and joyous, Azuma’s second chance of a family is.

He crosses the courtyard, pulling his delicate night robe closer to his body as he embraces himself for the impact of the chilly night air. 

That’s when he sees him, vibrant and enchanting, Homare, in the middle of the courtyard, reflected by the moonlight above. 

It doesn’t take a lot of imagination for Azuma to know what his fellow winter troupe member must be doing here of all places in the middle of the night, the sight of Homare reciting poems has become so familiar by now, it is certainly comforting to behold.

An involuntary, but not unwelcome, smile drapes across his face as he approaches his friend, “My my, Homare, isn’t it too late to be up?”

“Ah, Azuma-san,” Homare finally notices his presence, and he turns around dramatically but elegantly. Always elegantly. “Indeed it is. However, it is not unusual for me to be tormented by the galls of poetry even in the dead of the night.”

“So in other words,” Azuma smiles empathetically, “Writer’s block?”

Homare nods, “Correct, I just can’t seem to find the right words tonight… Ah well.”

Azuma chuckles, taking a seat on the bench closest to Homare. It is freezing to the touch, but he doesn’t mind it. Not when he’s in the presence of Homare.

“Azuma-san, I take it you couldn’t sleep either?” Homare takes a step closer as he poses the question, his eyes round with innocence.

“Nightmare…” Azuma lets the singular word roll down his tongue slowly, tasting it as it leaves his lips. He isn’t sure he is ready to have this conversation, to burden someone else with his emotional baggage, so he leaves it at that. Hopefully that one word is more than enough for now.

“Ah, how terrible! I don’t like the thought of you losing sleep not even one bit!”

Azuma let out a tiny puff of laughter, his breath visible in the cold air as he exhaled, “You’re too sweet, Homare…”

“My sweetness pales in comparison to your beauty, Azuma-san. I still have much to learn from your gracefulness.”

“…Come here.” Azuma smiles gently, patting the space next to him. Homare obliges quietly, doesn’t even hesitate, closes the gap between them as he sits down next to him, close enough for Azuma to rest his head on his shoulder. 

He knows Homare knows, that there is something unspoken between them. The secret glances during practice, the tenderness in their conversations, the comfort in each other’s company.

He could take a deep breath, open his mouth, and finally ask Homare what exactly they were, because surely they were  _ something. _ But instead of addressing it once and for all, he chooses to wrap his arms around Homare’s, praying that the silence will speak for itself.

They are both quiet for a while, the inhaling and exhaling of their breaths eventually becoming one. If it weren’t for the occasional rustle of wind in the trees, Azuma would’ve almost thought time had come to a brief halt. Not that he would have minded spending the rest of eternity in Homare’s arms.

“Azuma-san,” Homare is the one to break the silence, his voice uncharacteristically hushed, “I fear you might catch a cold if you stay out here for yet another second.”

“Fufu,” Azuma smiles to himself, carefully brushing their fingertips against each other as he ponders out loud, “I wonder,” He tilts his head to face Homare, “Would you come to bed with me if I asked?”

Homare chuckles kindly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles, “ _ For where thou art, there is the world itself. And where thou art not, desolation _ .” There’s a brief pause before he explains, and Azuma can feel Homare’s fingers shyly interlacing his, “Shakespeare. And it is a yes.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, comments are greatly appreciated!  
> You can find me on twitter [@itarusgf](https://twitter.com/itarusgf) ♡  
> 


End file.
